Le Plus Faible
by Meg Kenobi
Summary: Narcissa Malfoy narrates the loss of her weaker child and the origins of the darkness in her surviving son. Now Complete
1. Default Chapter

Title: Le Plus Faible   
  
Author: Meg Kenobi (afirmation@aol.com)   
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Sorry.   
  
Author's note: Disturbing piece here, kids. Just enjoy and review and please tell me if you think the rating ought to be higher. The next chapter is close behind. Le Plus Faible  
  
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I am a vain and self absorbed woman. This is a lesson I sorely needed to learn. And yet it seems so unfair.  
  
When Draco was only so very small, I knew he was a different sort of child. I suppose every mother holds her small one and thinks, "Ah! This babe is special," but Draco was. He truly was. He was a loving, compassionate little boy, always wanting to help or comfort. I dream sometimes of his pudgy little arms thrown around my waist in fierce loyalty. Everyday he thrust his heart and soul out into the world, wanting to sap up the love his father could not show. In every respect he was a perfect little boy, except for one nagging concern--he did not speak. For the first few years it was easy to dismiss him as a late bloomer. However, after five years of sullen silence, I knew I had to help him somehow.   
  
By the time he was five, I knew Draco need something to care for, something to love him unconditionally. It seemed at first that Lancelot was the perfect solution. I brought home the tiny Cocker Spaniel pup on a whim, but the light he put into my son's eyes told me my impulse was a wise one. We named his pet after the gallant knight of his storybooks, the knight he so admired. Draco was not moved to speech, but he might have been in time, had his pet stayed by him. Poor Lancelot was aptly named though, for he had a valiant heart. After only a few months as Draco's beloved companion, the foolish beast thought it wise to get between my husband and I during a particularly violent row. It's agony to know that Draco saw what his father did to the poor mutt. I can never remember if it is my blood or Lancelot's that stains the carpet in certain places.  
  
The dog gone, I saw Draco pull away. He still refused to speak. It was the first withdrawal in a downhill collapse of changes my son would go through in the years to come. I could have stopped it then and there. Given him something to love; something that would love him. I almost did. Lucius had always assumed I took proper measures against pregnancy and never bothered himself with the details. It was easy enough to conceive. I hid the pregnancy at first, but at last I had to tell Lucius. He was furious at first, of course. The conception of a child without his consent was a cataclysmic event in a house where one can be beaten for wearing her hair in a way he finds unflattering. Given time, however, Lucius grew to appreciate the inevitable child. After all, he had been Voldemort's beloved right hand man. I think he fancied the thought of populating the earth with his pureblood offspring. It was an action his beloved master would condone.  
  
When the child came, it found ways of surprising everyone. The baby was supposed to be a boy; another proud son to serve his father and his father's master. I never expected it to be small and female and sickly. I assumed that if the child in my womb could survive the beatings until its birth, it would be fine. I never imagined the tiny, ailing thing that I delivered. I never thought I could love it with all my heart.  
  
Lucius hated her at once. She was not a Malfoy by his standards. Any time I would anger him, the dangerous voice would come, whispering, "A daughter is not an heir. It is a prideful indulgence. You can keep her so long as you please me and my son. Don't you dare to dishonor me, Narcissa."  
  
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	2. Mes Enfants

Title: Le Plus Faible   
  
Author: Meg Kenobi (afirmation@aol.com)   
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Sorry.   
  
Author's note: Disturbing piece here, kids. Just enjoy and review and please tell me if you think the rating ought to be higher. Sorry this chapter is so short. The next chapter is close behind.   
  
Le Plus Faible  
  
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All of Lucius' anger did not matter, though. I placed my infant daughter in my son's arms and new I'd found some peace. Draco opened in a way he never had before. Even his unrelenting silence was made lighter. He made himself into a mock father for his little sister. I let him push her around the nursery in the pram--Lucius would not stand for his embarassment to be wheeled around the streets. The nursery is a different sort of room though and it did Draco good to pass his time in such a place. When pregnant with Draco, I couldn't bear the thought of bringing my baby home to one of the dreary, dank rooms of the Malfoy Manor. Instead I had the room painted a pale yellow and the dark stained glass windows with clear panes. It would grow to be the only room in the Manor where my heart did not feel weighted with darkness. I understood too well what drew Draco back to the sunlight of that room and the promise of the infant child.  
  
Lucius seemed as repulsed by the sight of our daughter as Draco was enchanted. The girl had been born with my thick, yellow hair instead of the Malfoy white-blonde. Her eyes, like mine, were a dark hazel, not pale and clear like her father and brother. I could see the gears grind in my husband's mind, convincing himself that this pallid, flailing creature could not possibly be his. He had made up his reasons to hate her and to hate me more. I made my own petty retaliations. If the child was not a Malfoy, then she needn't have a Malfoy family name. I named her Bella instead, a name from my family. The name of a courageous woman I doubted even he could denounce.  
  
While Lucius was far from kind to our baby, he was not cruel. Sometimes he even seemed to appreciate the child he had labeled a bastard. The first two months passed silently. I was accoustumed to Lucius being cold and distant and his further withdrawl did not strike me as noteworthy. I should have sensed the passing time as the calm before the cyclone, but in my mind I was trying so desperately to see it as a good omen. Draco was coming out from that place with in himself that I could not reach. Even though I knew it to be wrong, I could not help but think I had found an answer. Here was someone for Draco to pour his heart into, and he himself was a tiny father for my little girl. The days we spent together seemed idyllic and we seemed beyond the legacy of horror that had tormented my life thus far. If only I could have removed my husband from the equation. If only I had the strength to do so.  
  
It was a hard time at the Ministry in those days. My husband walked a precarious line, trying to run his department as an alleged Death Eater. He had to strike the difficult balance of suffocating rumors without betraying his Dark Lord. While he would never have admitted it, the stress was terrible for him. He realized he could no longer command respect by his reputation. Instead he had to do so by force and intimidation. More and more his hostilities and frustrations spilled into my life and our home. He had been passing his evenings with co-orkers at the Minataur, a bar on Knockturn Alley. He came home so many nights heavy with the stink of fire-whiskey and an opressive air of fury, the way he came home that fateful night.  
  
  
  
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	3. La Mort

Title: Le Plus Faible   
  
Author: Meg Kenobi (afirmation@aol.com)   
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Sorry.   
  
Author's note: Disturbing piece here, kids. Just enjoy and review and please tell me if you think the rating ought to be higher. We've reached the ending! Huzzah! Not that is a particularly happy ending, per se . . .   
  
Le Plus Faible  
  
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Every time he has beaten me, cursed at me, spat at me, I have found my fault in retrospect. It is easy to blame yourself once you know what to look for; that petty but all important moment of selfishness or neglect. He was drunk that night. That is my first excuse; I should have made a show of putting him to bed, assuring him the Ministry was not going to collapse on his head. But our daughter was sick and I was exhausted. I heard him slam the door, cursing, and falling up the stairs, and yet I was so tired I did not react. I could have changed the ending a thousand ways, but I simply lay prone and overcome with ennui.   
  
He was slamming around our room then, stripping himself and tripping over his feet as he fought desperately and clumsily with his bootlaces. I implored him to be quiet, and in response he hurtled the boot he had just loosened as hard as he could at the wall.  
  
"Lucius, please, you'll wake them," I whispered, my eyes glancing anxiously at the door, wondering if I had the nerve to go shut the nursery door and ours before letting him do what he wanted with me. The baby had been feverish all day and the last thing I wanted was for her to awake now to the sound of blows landing.   
  
"Sod off," he screamed. He was ripping at the buttons of his shirt, but suddenly changed tack and came at me. I was no stranger to submission and violation, but the baby had begun to cry. He climbed on top of me and started to claw at neck, my collar, and I did the most foolish thing I have ever done. I pushed him away. He seemed shocked at first, but came at me again, hitting my face hard enough to send me reeling, falling back against the bed. I should have stopped, let him have his way, and then worried about Bella, but she was sobbing. I rose defiantly and walked out of the room, leaving him in a stupor. I only got as far as the nursery door before he was on me again.  
  
"You whore!" He was hollering as he struck blindly at me, "You whore, you neglect me to see to some other man's bastard child?"  
  
"She's your child, Lucius," I hollered through my tears. He hit me again, but I shoved him fiercely. The alcohol raging in his blood upset his equilibrium, and he toppled backwards. I seized the moment to dash into the nursery, latching the door swiftly. I gathered my infant girl in my arms and whispered to her that it would be all right. Her face was swollen with hives from her desperate sobs. Lucius was pounding on the door, screaming and cursing. I held my daughter close to my chest and hummed a long forgotten lullaby. Lucius screamed that he would kill me, but I sat down in the rocker to soothe my baby. I was so enraptured by her delicate perfection, that I did not notice the moment in which the screaming stopped; I did not notice until a concerted blast from his wand blew the door of its hinges, and he stalked into the room, a murderous glint in his eye.  
  
"You wouldn't be the first sobbing mother I watched be killed, whore," he growled, but I was certain it was a lie. He was drunk and he had dropped his wand. The baby was nearly asleep. I could put her to bed and lead him to take his anger out downstairs so that she might sleep. I was such a fool.  
  
He moved with surprising speed and dexterity despite his intoxication. He ripped Bella from my arms before I could react.  
  
"Why?" He was demanding to know, screaming at the top of his lungs, holding her at arms length, "Our world, our life is falling apart, and all you can worry about is this foul abomination?!" He was shaking her violently and I found myself unable to do anything but reach toward him helplessly, my arms outstretched towards my baby girl. It was like trying to wrestle a child from a werewolf; I did not dare to move too suddenly for fear of provoking him further, and in turn causing more harm to my baby.  
  
"Lucius, I'm sorry, I'll do whatever you want to make it up to you, just put her down," I was trying to keep my voice level, but I was shaking. He had hit Draco before, but never in front of me. I was so selfish; I never realized before that moment that his anger could hurt anyone but me. I had no idea how to protect someone from him. I had never bothered to protect myself.  
  
"You can never make it up -- STOP CRYING!" He had slammed her suddenly and sharply against the dresser with the force normally reserved for breaking the bones in my face. She stopped crying. Stopped moving. Her tiny birdlike heart fluttered to a stop.   
  
"No. No!" He placed her limp form in my arms without reverence. He leaned to my ear and hissed in the viper's voice.  
  
"This is your fault, Narcissa, all your fault. You did not protect your baby. Did not please your son and husband. You are a vain and self absorbed woman. This is a lesson you sorely needed to learn. You left your family alone and because of you your Bella is dead. You killed her yourself." I clutched the cold, dead child to my chest, sobbing as I turned helplessly to the door.  
  
"Draco!" I cried out. He stood there, watching. And then my son began to speak.  
  
"I hate you," he spat and turned away.   
  
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